Empty Eyes
by Aleigh Walker
Summary: Rogue catches up with Logan in a bar.


Title: Empty Eyes

Author: Aleigh Walker

Email: aleigh.walker (at) gmail (dot) com

Rating: PG-13 (to be safe)Summary: Rogue catches up to Loagan during a cage-fight.  
Series: None (oneshot)  
Category: Shipper Fic  
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, I simply like to play with them  
Archive: Simply tell me where please.  
Spoilers/Continuity: X1  
Author's Notes: This was written in response to Lateo's Cage Challenge. Not long, but I thought I would post it as my first Rogue/Logan. I read the challenge and the only phrase that came to mind was "You had best figure out if you want me or not sugar, because, I'm going home with the winner." Enjoy. I'm new to this fandom, so if you see someting really wrong, please let me know.

Empty Eyes

You know, now that I think back on it, I really should have known better. Now I ain't a stranger to cage-fights mind you. No sir. But he, well, he just looked kina like he belonged there. You know the type, rough n' tumble , unshaven. The only thing out of place was the fact that he seemed to have no scars. Usually they're the sign of a true veteran of the cage.

Well, like I said, I'm no stranger to the cage, so I kina sign up for a round with this new guy. In other words, I just stood up and challenged him. Now I ain't strictly a violent type, but sometimes, well, I just gota let it all out. So I get up and get in the cage. Now like I was saying earlier, he looked like he belonged, right up until you got a good look in his eyes.

When you seen them, well, they just kinda break your heart. I've seen that look on animals they take out of the wild. The look of a dead animal walking. Like someone simply reached in and jerked out their soul. An empty gaze would stare back at you. Almost like they were pleading with you to kill them, but unable to go down without a fight. It just went against their nature. I guess the name Wolverine fit him better than I had originally thought.

Now, in boxing, or wrestling they usually have this fancy bell to start. And well, some of the more fancy cages do too. But generally we just start it off as soon as the referee gets out of our way.

So, there we were, kinda circling each other looking for an opening when the door banged open. Now considering the time of year it is, you would have thought that someone would have complained. At least just a little. Nope, and no wonder. Cause let me tell you, if I never live to see beautiful again, I saw it that day.

She stood framed in the door for a moment as she scanned the interior of the bar. Almost like she was looking for someone. Now, she had every eye in the room trained on her, cuz she wasn't exactly the normal type to come in here. Usually places like this only get the standard Bar-flies or enraged wives. But she was a lady. No mistaken that

Well, the moment that door opened the Wolverine had just frozen. Almost as if he knew who it was the instant she stepped through that door. Ya know, now that I think about it, if I'd of looked, I probably would have seen a spark light up in his dead eyes.

Well, I think the two of us, and everyone in the bar, just stopped what we were doing to watch her. Lord have mercy was it worth it. She strolled up to the two of us in the cage. And when I say strolled, I mean it. Hips swaying, smiling playing. I tell you, this is what all those cheep barflies try to mimic, but never can. I' talking about the kind of walk only a true woman can do. It's just a mixture of confidence, personality, and leashed sexual energy.

Anyway, she walked right up next to the cage, grabbed a chair, straddled it backwards, looked at us, and smiled. I'm not sure who started to sweat more, me or him. Then, she just kinda looked at us really close for a moment or two before she spoke.

"You had best figure out if you want me or not sugar, because, I'm going home with the winner." Now, if ever there was a voice to melt butter in the snow, that was it.

Well, as you can imagine, the Wolverine's nostrils just kinda flared, then he just glanced at me. I do remember looking in his eyes though. I swear on my last set of new tires, they glowed. They were suddenly full of happiness, determination, fear, hope, and well, quite simply, life.

I don't recall much of what happened next, cause I was hit by a box car. Later, when I asked some of the witnesses what in the hell had happened they just laughed at me. The general consensus was that he hit me with his fit. A simple right hook apparently.

I've been fightin' a long time, and let me tell you, there was nothing simple about that train wreck. Cuz I've never been hit that hard by a 'simple right hook.'

When I regained consciousness, I found myself dumped in a booth. And who should be sitting across from me, but the beautiful brunette that had approached the two of us earlier. Now, I will admit to more than a little bit of confusion. She, however, smiled at me and explained.

Apparently, she felt bad about the way the fight had gone. It seems that her point was to get the Wolverine to admit he liked her, not turn my head into a railway turntable. Then she turned around to face the bar where the victor was buying us all a round of beer. While she watched him, I tell you, her face glowed. Kinda like his eyes did, but more.

After a moment, he came back and sat down next to her. Ya know, it almost hurts to see that kind of connection between two people. Makes you more envious than a blind man in an art museum. They made an odd pair, but they kinda fit like two puzzle pieces. He had strength for her weaknesses, and she his.

Well, now they've both gone and all I'm left with is the memory of a beautiful girl, a wounded warrior, a half a bottle of warm beer, and a boxcar bruise on my left jaw. It was worth it.

Yeah, I should have known better than to get in that cage with him. It wasn't like I weren't warned or nuth'en. Next time I think I'll just sit on the sidelines. You tend not to get hit by trains that way. Much safer.

Now, I think I'll hobble over to that pay phone and give the Professor a call. Let him know that his pair of Clubs are going to be ok. I tell you, the next assignment had better be warmer. It's damn cold up here. Time for this Texas boy to go home. Possibly after a stop in New Orleans. The Professor said something about a thief of hearts last time I talked to him.

Hummm… Maybe I'll even ask him how Diamonds and Spades are doing. Never hurts to keep in touch.


End file.
